Legends of Darkness
by Shanza
Summary: The Tomorrow People - evolved humans. The species is a first - but what if it has happened before? Long ago, another race evolved, determined to hide from mankind's sight. Until now. Until one of them is bold - or desperate - enough to risk exposure in a crazy bid that just might save her life. Rated for violence, some language.
1. Chapter 1 :: Taken

_So this is my first story I've posted - ever - so I'm not expecting it to be phenomenal. Any suggestions, hints, clues, etc. are super welcome & appreciated, especially in the lines of character consistency. _

_The Story :: __I tried to keep this as authentic to the world as we've seen it so far (currently I finished Season 1, Episode 12, Rumble, & haven't seen it since). I got to thinking - if the Tomorrow People are evolved humans, whose to say that it hasn't happened before? That some other race hasn't evolved as well? _

_Disclaimer - the normal - I do not own any of the characters, shows, etc (Don't know if this is necessary, but most people seem to do it, and like I said, it's my first story.)_

_Hope you like it - but even if you don't - feedback welcome!_

* * *

_ ~ Taken ~_

* * *

"Well, what do you think?" Ultra's security guard leaned back in his chair with a cocky smirk, and Laura resisted the impulse to smack him.

"Good," she nodded slowly, eyeing the monitor. "Show me again. Slowly." It was her first real lead in over a year.

He swiveled back to the computer, backing up the image. It froze, and started forward at a snail's pace. Two men were fighting in a forest, teleporting back and forth, each trying to outdo the other. Even at the slower pace, the teleportation was faster than she could believe; they would be gone, and only a slight disturbance in the air would warn of their reappearance. One was knocked down, and he twisted, impossibly slowly, to grab a gun. The gun's flare distorted the screen for a millisecond, and then the second man fell, crashing to the ground silently. The first man straightened, dropping the gun, before he vanished. She leaned in closer, heart beating faster. This was indeed what she was looking for. "He's still in the city?"

"Supposedly," the guard shrugged. "The boss calls them 'Tomorrow People.' I've heard they're hiding underground like rats."

She straightened, passing over a hundred dollar bill. "Tell me everything you know about them." Her eyes lingered on the screen where the surviving man had vanished. "About him."

* * *

She shoved the map away from her in frustration, her instruments clattering to the floor. Laura glared at a blue-tinged crystal glittering softly in the candlelight. With a quick flick of her hand, the crystal levitated off the floor and floated over to her. She wrapped its leather string around it before folding it into a clean cloth and sliding it back into her pocket. She needed a focus, and for that she needed to go back to the hidden quarters of Ultra and it's security guard.

* * *

"No way," the man hissed at her, grabbing her arm to drag her towards the door. "If they find out I'll get canned. I _need_ this job."

Laura slowly pulled her arm free of his belligerent grasp, smiling at the man standing on the other side of Ultra's vast entrance hall. The guard was obviously curious, but everything about his stance screamed his hostility. Laura switched her gaze to the guard next to her, the one who had been feeding her information on Ultra for the past six months. Her almond eyes were cold and hard, unforgiving. "Unless you want me to tell that friend of yours exactly what you've been doing, you'll help me."

He glared at her, steadily ignoring the other guard who had started to walk towards them, hand on his weapon. It was the first time Laura had visited the complex in the middle of the day, but in this case, the added threat of additional security and oblivious civilians should help.

"You wouldn't dare," he hissed at her, leaning closer. "They'd do anything to keep this a secret."

"I can take care of myself. As for you?" She raised one shoulder slowly as her voice trailed off, smiling as the man paled.

"I can't - it's too risky."

She pouted, taking a step past him. Towards the oncoming guard. He yanked her back and swore softly. "Fine! I'll do it. I'll need help."

She smiled at him, lying a hand across the one on her arm. "When are you next on single duty?"

He shook his head. "Never. Only during breaks." He sighed. "I can't believe I'm doing this. I want triple."

She smiled, and nodded.

He swallowed. "Be here tonight at ten. I'll call you when Ben goes on break."

"Hey Greg? Everything alright?" The other guard called, stopping about twenty feet away. His weapon inched out of its sheath, slow and deliberate.

"Everything's fine, Ben. She was just leaving."

Greg let go of her arm reluctantly, and Laura spun on her heel, lazily sauntering out the front door.

* * *

Laura waited in the dark shadows of the building across the street, tapping her impatience down. Her phone buzzed once, and she jogged across, meeting Greg at the front door of the building. He glanced around as he pulled the door open for her, quickly locking it after she was through. "The tapes are on a loop. You have five minutes." He jogged up the stairs, shoving a detailed map of the facility at her. "Floor three, third door on the left will let you into the science department. Door 5A is cold storage. That's where you want to go." He stopped in front of the elevator, hitting the up button. A second later it pinged, and the doors slid open.

"Just remember," Laura spoke sweetly as she stepped inside, hitting the button for the third floor. "If they find me, they find you."

"I know," he said softly as the doors closed on him.

The elevator whirred upwards, pinging as it reached its destination. She glanced down the hall, glad no one was there to see her. The hall stretched out in front of her, and she started to jog, her shoes slapping hollowly on the floor. Large block letters spelled out different departments as she passed them; RESEARCH & SIMULATION, TECHNIQUE ADVANCEMENT, D-CHIP RESEARCH, ABILITY MANIPULATION. The third door on the left was the last one in the hall, announcing SCIENTIFIC LABORATORY RESEARCH STATIONS. She jingled the handle; it was locked.

Stepping back, the woman lifted her hands from her sides, staring at the door. The still air started to move, swirling around her. The pressure and speed built, her short hair whipping around, stinging her face and neck. With a thought, she channeled the energy at the door, forcing it into the cracks and edges, building the pressure up behind the door's locking mechanism. With a loud crack, the lock snapped open and the air stilled. She smiled, trying the handle again. It turned easily, and she let herself into the room.

White walls, flat lab benches, microscopes, white lab coats; her impression was of a science classroom. Everything was pristine, easy to clean and disinfect, cupboards lining the room. She eyed one of the cupboards, flicking her hand at it. It popped open, the doors slamming as they hit the cupboards on either side. Scientifically labeled containers, a microscope, and other equipment she didn't recognize lined its shelves. The woman walked on.

The door 5A was a massive door for a walk in fridge or freezer, like the kind large restraunts would use. Next to it, an electric lock glowed balefully at her. She frowned, glancing between the lock and the door. There was no way to easily break into it; it was too heavy, and the electronics prevented many of her tricks. She didn't have time to come up with an alternative strategy; she would have to be obvious, and Ultra would know they had been broken into.

With a frown, she pulled out a small metal disk. It had a swirling symbol painted onto it, the deep red glistening like fresh paint - or fresh blood. It snapped onto the electronic lock like it was magnetized, and soon sparks started spitting out from its sides. The woman backed away, ducking behind a metal desk.

It started to hiss, a snapping crackle that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She gritted her teeth and covered her ears as it increased in intensity. A sudden bang, like the backfiring of a car, shot through the room. The woman stood up and walked towards the wall. The metal disk was smoking on the floor, curled and twisted with half-melted currents of metal distorting its previously smooth surface. She left it where it was and pulled open the door.

The cold air rolled out into the main room, tendrils of fog drifting around her as she strode into the fridge. Tiny two-inch wide plastic drawers covered the walls, reaching up to the twelve-foot-high ceiling. How much time did she have left? She didn't know. She started checking labels randomly, looking for names. Her phone rang when she was still on the first wall, rapidly moving towards the back.

"Hello?" She snapped, pulling out random drawers to double check their contents. Slides, small containers, a desiccated mouse; the last one she snapped shut with a grimace.

"Where the hell are you? Ben will be back any time now!"

"I'll be back in a second. Is there anyone else in the building besides you and him?"

"There's a few researchers on five. Hurry up."

The phone called ended with a snap. It was possible that the researches hadn't heard the small explosion if he hadn't, but she wasn't counting on it.

A name! Finally! _'Steven Jameson,_' the tiny drawer was labeled, and she quickly scanned the other names, looking for the one she wanted. _'John Young_' was near the bottom, and she snapped the container out, emptying the contents into her palm. There were three vials filled with blood; she grabbed the newest one and dropped the others on the floor, shattering them. As she walked back to the door, the cold air started to whip around her, spiraling in the confined area. The drawers started to shake and rattle in their places, and she heard several things breaking. A drawer whipped out of its socket and she ducked automatically, wincing as it hit her arm. The wind was strong enough that it started to steal her breath away, and she bolted forward, holding tight to the vial of blood. She slammed into the fridge door, stumbling forward in the calm air of the main room. Light headed and dizzy, she leaned against the far wall and watched as drawer after drawer was sucked into the spinning vortex, smashing their contents against the floor and walls. The small vial of blood was cool in her grip, and she slid it into her pocket and headed for the door.

* * *

"Hey!"

Laura stepped out of the elevator, eyeing the security guard rushing towards her. He was drawing his weapon, pulling at the radio attached to his shoulder. She glared at the electronic thing, and the guard swore, yanking his hand away as it started to spark and crackle. As he glanced away from her she lunged forward, one hand closing around his gun wrist, the other folding over his jaw. Immediately his eyes rolled back as he started to tremble, his veins turning black where she touched him. She let go of the corpse and stumbled away, nauseous and trembling.

Pounding footsteps had her straightening up, gathering all the strength she had left. Greg slid to a stop, staring at his colleague on the ground. He dropped to his knees, feeling the man's neck. "I can't feel a pulse -" He flipped Ben onto his back, then recoiled in horror, his face white.

The skin was pulled tight across the guard's face, eyes rolled back in their sockets, face distorted in a frozen scream. Covering his lower jaw was a black handprint, tendrils of veins stretching across his face and throat. Even as they watched, the black marks were slowly fading. Within minutes, they would be gone.

"What did you do?" The man whispered, unable to take his eyes off the corpse. "How - how do you expect- ?"

"Help me with the body," she said softly. At his wide-eyed horror, she hissed, "Do you want to be found out?"

He gulped, then took a step forward. She grabbed his hand as he came near, digging her nails in as he tried to jerk away from her. He threw a punch as his veins started turning black, streaking away from her grip on his arm. He stumbled, gasping, and she grabbed his throat with her free hand. He stiffened, eyes rolling back in his eyes as he fell to his knees. Her fingers spasmed tighter as she tried to let go, and she fell backwards as she wrenched herself away.

Laura's body trembled like a leaf as she sprawled on the floor, gasping for breath. The intensity of the tremors slowed enough so she could drag herself to her feet, and she stood still for a moment before she trusted herself to move.

She slowly descended the stairs, stumbling out Ultra's front door and into the night.

* * *

"Keep your guard up!" John snapped as he landed a debilitating blow to Stephan's side. Stephan gasped, stumbling away.

"Alright," the younger man groaned, straightening before he nodded at John. John grinned, instantly teleporting behind Stephan. Stephan swung around, managing to block the first couple of his friend's blows before John kicked him in the shin, knocking him to his knees. "Damn it," Stephan groaned as he rolled to his back on the training mats. "Isn't it enough that I get pounded on by Ultra? Do I have to train here too?"

"Do you want to survive?" John asked.

Stephan glared at him. The phone buzzed, and John walked over to check it. Stephan sat up as he tossed it to him, groaning as he read the message.

"I guess it's time to get pounded on by Ultra," John smirked.

Stephan shot him a disgusted look as he got to his feet and headed for the door.

* * *

The alarm blared, startling Laura awake. She rolled off the couch, glaring at the clock. Her whole body ached, pain lancing through every muscle she used. An empty pizza box lay on the coffee table, surrounded by a variety of candy wrappers. With a groan she shoved herself to her feet, stumbling over to the coffee maker to make a new pot. It gurgled as it started to brew, and she headed to the bathroom to wake up.

Her image stared back at her in the mirror; gaunt and obviously tired, she looked sick. Her hair was limp and dirty, her eyes had dark bruises under them, and her cheekbones were more prominent then she had ever seen them. She splashed water on her face before heading back to the kitchen for coffee and food.

* * *

"What's going on?" Stephan asked one of the Ultra agents who were heading over to the briefing room.

"Breech last night. A couple of guards were killed."

Stephan almost stopped dead, glancing around for Jedikiah. He didn't see him at first; then his uncle straightened from a hunched over position. Stephan quickly worked his way through the crowd and the computer consuls, edging closer to his uncle.

"Sir?" Stephan softly asked when he got close enough. "What happened?"

Jed glanced at him, mostly distracted as he flipped through pages of information. "Good. You're here. I need you to look hard for any connection to that band of Tomorrow People. See if there's anything we missed. Think you can do that?"

"Yeah," Stephan said, confused. "But why?"

Jedikiah closed the folder and slapped him on the shoulder. "Later. Now get back with the other agents."

Stephan reluctantly left his uncle's side, blending back in with the other agents as Jed walked to the front of the room. _{Cara,}_ he called telepathically. _{Something's up at Ultra. Something serious. We're briefing now.}_

_{Great. Keep me updated.}_

_{Will do.}_

* * *

Laura took a deep breath, staring at the vial of blood resting in a bowl of hot water. It had been soaking for the past half-hour as she tried to get its temperature as close to body temp as possible. It should be ready, but she was exhausted. She hadn't planned on casting the spell this soon, but her plans had to change. Ultra would be on her case soon, if they weren't already. The 'Tomorrow People', telepaths all, might be ready for her if she delayed. Even if they couldn't kill, the one she was going after could. If she hesitated with him, she would likely end up dead. A faint smile creased her lips. She always liked the dangerous prey. The realization decided her. Laura plunged her hand into the hot water and grabbed the vial of blood.

The oblong crystal she had tried to use earlier lay in a bowl filled with pristine sand, which rested on a map of the city. She uncapped the vial, slowly pouring the thick liquid over the crystal's surface. It slowly started to drip off, staining the sand a soft red, but most of the blood spread across the crystal's surface, coating it. She tossed the empty vial aside, lifting the crystal by its string before removing the bowl of sand. The crystal started to twist on its string as she shoved her will at it, the spiraling arcs slowly gaining length and speed.

Blood pooled towards the bottom of the crystal, but didn't drop off. The crystal's arching movement started to change, to drift to the left, and she moved the crystal in that direction. The first drop of blood fell, hitting the map with a splat. She moved the crystal in that direction as its swings started to get more powerful. The second drop fell, and then a third. Soon a fourth and fifth drop had fallen, and the crystal's swing decreased in energy. The crystal stopped moving, pointing at a forty-five degree angle, at a point near the center of the drops of blood. Laura smiled as she moved her hand closer, lowering the crystal enough so that it's tip barely brushed the map.

She placed the crystal back in the bowl of sand, and wrote down the locations of all the drops of blood, as well as the central location.

"Yes, I need a taxi immediately." She spoke into her phone as she grabbed her purse. "The Broadstreet Subway station." It was the closest underground access to the crystal's pointed location.

* * *

"So all teams on standby; be ready to deploy at any time. Research and Tracking, I want you checking the building and surveillance for any clue the intruder might have left. Get to it." Jedikiah quickly wrapped up the meeting, after giving a quick run-down of what had happened at the facility the previous night. Steven's eyes flickered up to the overhead screen, where a picture of the security guards was displayed. They looked like they had died in so much pain; he jerked his eyes away. "Steven, over here please," Jedikiah called as he switched off the monitors.

"Do you know how they died?" Steven asked softly when he joined his uncle.

"Not yet," Jedikiah replied tersely as he headed for his office. "Close the door behind you."

"I didn't see any connection to the Tomorrow People, if that's what you're wondering."

Jed slapped the folder down on his desk and gestured for Steven to take a seat. "I think John is involved."

"What?"

"I don't have evidence - not yet at least."

"John can't kill like that." Steven flatly refused to believe it. It wasn't that he doubted John's ability or willingness to break into Ultra; it was that John wouldn't torture anyone to do it.

"Maybe not. But he's still with Cara, isn't he? We need to know for certain if they were involved."

Steven blinked. "I'll find out."

"Good." Jedikiah looked down at the papers filling his desk, and Steven stood to leave. "And keep this quiet, got it?"

Steven nodded. "Just between you and me." He left the building fast, jogging down the stairs and out onto the street. _{Cara?}_

_{Yes?}_

_{I need to talk to you and John. Right now. I'll be there soon.}_

_{Weren't you just at Ultra? Is that safe?}_

_{It's necessary.}_

_{I'll get him.}_

* * *

Steven waited impatiently for the train station to empty before taking the next train. It was lucky that it was still early; he managed to get the entire compartment to himself before teleporting into the lair. "John, Cara!" He called, jogging up the steps to TIM's room.

"Over here. What's going on?" John shoved the door open as Steven approached.

"Ultra was broken into last night. Two guards were killed - it was awful. I hadn't ever seen anything like it." Steven pulled out his phone and pulled up a snapshot of the security guards. "Ultra doesn't even know how they died, but they looked like they were in massive pain."

"Does Jedikiah know you took this?" John asked as he stared at the photo.

"No - I don't think so. I thought it was worth the risk."

Cara looked sick and quickly handed the phone back to Stephen. "I understand the mystery, but why the urgency?"

"Jedikiah thinks John has something to do with it."

"What?" John exclaimed. "He thinks I'd do that?"

"I don't know. I think he knows something he's not telling me. I'm pretty sure he was worried about Morgan."

"Hey guys?" Russell slid to a halt in front of the door, grabbing the doorframe to stop. "Someone's here."

"Who? Where?" Cara snapped.

"They're on the other side of the wall. We don't know who. Charlotte heard them moving. She's pretty certain there's only one or two people."

John whipped past him, jogging down to where Charlotte stood. The others followed slower. "Russell, can you get everyone out of sight and ready to evacuate if it's Ultra?" Cara asked him.

"Got it Chief," he grinned at her annoyed expression and started rounding up the others.

John was kneeling next to Charlotte, who was gripping his arm tightly. Stephan could see her hand trembling. "I don't want to go back there," she whispered.

John smiled sadly and pulled her into a hug. "I promise I won't let that happen. Can you go with Russell? Please?"

She hugged him tightly, and Steven barely heard her soft whisper. "Be careful." She ran past him, vanishing after Russell.

The three of them glanced towards the closed off door as it rattled in place. They could barely hear a woman swearing softly, then the bang of metal against metal rang through the cavern.

"If it's Ultra, you better take off, Steven," John warned, glancing at him.

Stephan grimaced, and the disturbance of his teleportation caused John's leather coat to flap wildly. John and Cara split up to cover each side of the door as it shuttered in its frame. John held up his hand, and a long steel pipe was jerked across the room to smack into John's hand. The door started shuttering, shaking hard against the frame. It suddenly burst open, slamming against the wall. Dust flew everywhere, and someone stumbled through the opening, coughing her lungs out. John grabbed her arm, flipping the woman onto her back as Cara swiveled in front of the door, eying the open space. John heard the snap of her teleport, and a moment later she walked back through the door. "Clear. She's alone."

The woman was struggling not to cough, holding her one arm over her mouth. The other hand was held open in the air above her head, and she was staring at John and Cara as if they were demons. _{She's in pretty bad shape,_} John said. Sunken almond eyes, dark limp hair, and her clothes were hanging off her frame as if they were several sizes too big. She was thin, had the look of having lost too much weight in a very short amount of time.

_{What is she doing here?}_ Cara snapped back.

_{Well, we _can_ ask her.}_

Cara rolled her eyes before squatting down next to the woman. "What are you doing here?"

"I got freaking lost. Can you believe that? This doesn't happen to be some underground club, does it? Do you happen to have a proper exit?" The words boiled out, anxious and hoarse as the woman tried not to cough.

"We have an exit," John said cautiously. Something about her didn't seem quite right to him. Cara stood slowly, glancing at John before offering the woman her hand. The woman hesitated before grabbing it, and Cara helped pull her to her feet.

"My name's Laura," the woman said softly, eying the nearby couches with a little confusion. "Sorry about wreaking your door."

John glanced at the door and shook his head. "It's not wreaked yet."

Laura smiled hesitantly. "I must say, it was really lucky that I ran into you two. For a while there, I thought I was going to be lost forever!" She shook her head, glancing around the place. "It is rather cozy down here, isn't it? What's the name?"

"Sorry, it's a private establishment," Cara said. Her voice wavered, and John glanced at her sharply. Cara swayed on her feet, and he lunged forward, catching her as she fell. John lowered her slowly to the ground, feeling her neck for a pulse.

"Oh my god!" Laura exclaimed, placing her hand on John's shoulder as she leaned closer. He could feel the tremble of her muscles even through his shirt. "Is she alright?"

He shrugged, moving out of her grip when she didn't let go immediately. He was twitchy and unsettled, and something about Laura disturbed him. Cara's pulse was strong against his fingers, and he shook her gently, whispering her name under his breath and in his head. Laura placed her hand against his shoulder again as she knelt down next to him.

John clenched his jaw, turning to ask her to move away when the world spun around him. He stuck his hand out to the side, scraping it against the concrete floor as he fell sideways. Laura just watched him, the air of false sympathy gone. She stood, looking slightly unsteady, but maybe that was just John's own disorientation.

He dragged himself towards Cara, feeling ready to throw up as the world tipped crazily along its axis. "Wake up," he mumbled, leaning into her prone form. "Please, wake up." _{Wake up!}_ He screamed, his mental voice drifting and unstable. Even if she had been awake, he wasn't sure she would have heard him.

John closing his hand around her wrist and tried to teleport, his stomach wrenching violently in protest. _{Russell…Steven…Russell!}_ His heart was jack hammering in his chest; he didn't know if they could hear him.

He glance up as the woman slammed the metal door shut, some kind of strange symbol glowing on its face. She stepped away from it, raising her hands and starting to chant. The door started to glow softly, the gray of concrete and steel becoming more vibrant and darker; John stared in disbelief as warm browns and golden colors started to take over, a beautiful wood-grain patterning slowly emerging. She lowered her hands, and instead of the old subway door, a finely detailed wooden one stood in its place. The glowing symbol had been replaced by a replica of deeply carved wood and silver inlay.

_{CHARLOTTE!}_ John screamed with all of his might, knowing her mental telepathy was one of the strongest of all of them. _{CHARLOTTE! Please, HEAR me!}_

* * *

Charlotte sat against the wall, stiff and worried, hugging her knees tight to her chest. John would be fine; he was strong, and fast, and trained by Ultra. He would be fine. The others were standing in groups or alone; Russell was running back and forth, trying to make sure everyone had multiple escape strategies in mind. He shook his head, glancing back towards the main room where Cara and John were. Steven would be gone by now, headed back to Ultra. They would be alone.

She tried to reach out, to feel for John, to reassure herself that he was alright. She couldn't feel him, couldn't feel Cara either. Disappointed, she started to draw back. Her telepathy could be strong, but she still couldn't hear the others. When she had been at the Citadel, she had withdrawn into herself, closing her mind off from the world.

Then she heard it - something faint, layered over by a static whispering. It sounded like wind. She frowned, closing her eyes to focus on it. She pushed through the interference, snatching at the thing that sounded like words. It was distorted and distant, but she thought she heard her name.

_{Hello?}_

_{ … lott … ELP!} _

"JOHN!" She shot to her feet, bolting towards the door.

"Everyone out!" Russell yelled as he grabbed Charlotte before tossing her back into the hands of one her friends. "Let me go!" She screamed as Russell teleported. _{I'm coming!}_ She kicked the guy holding her in the shins, and he dropped her, swearing. She vanished before she hit the floor.

* * *

Russell teleported to the edge of the main room, glad he had been able to intercept Charlotte before she jumped into a situation she wasn't prepared for. He spun sideways, expecting to see Ultra agents everywhere, or at least a kill squad spread across the room. Instead, John and Cara were on the ground, and a strange woman was glaring at him from next to a polished wood door.

She yanked it open, and pale light spilled into the underground station. Russell teleporting forward, catching a glimpse of white plaster walls, wooden cupboards, and a billiard's table. He appeared behind her, but she turned to face him, throwing a punch he easily dodged. He kicked her hard behind the knee, snapping his fist towards her head as she fell. She twisted sideways, her hand slapping his wrist. Pain lanced up his arm as black marks streaked across his hand. He jerked away from her as his hand went numb, the black streaking slowly fading from his skin. She rolled away from him, and he teleported over to John.

"Look out!" John slurred, his eyes wide and bloodshot as Russell grabbed at him. Russell jerked as something tickled his neck, and he reached up as it snapped tight around his neck. He dug his hands into the cord as he fell to his knees, quickly getting lightheaded. The woman walked over as the cord yanked Russell over backward, her brown eyes cold and hard as she studied him. He could feel his heart starting to beat faster, his lungs screaming for air as she turned away. John rolled sideways, grabbing a pipe off the floor as he struggled to get to his knees. She grabbed the pipe as he swung it at her, yanking it out from his grip, before bringing it down on his head.

"No!" Charlotte screamed as she bolted forward. She launched herself into the woman, knocking the pipe out of her hands as the girl's momentum carried them both away from John's prone form. Charlotte's hands were wrapped around the woman's throat, and she was screaming at the top of her lungs. Laura wrapped her hands around Charlotte's wrists as they fell through the strange door, landing on the carpeted surface beyond. The girl's angry screeching turned into an agonized howl, and her metal scream lanced through the room. The woman shoved her off, clapping her hands to her ears.

The cord loosened around Russell's neck and he choked in air, coughing as it hit his lungs. He rolled to his knees as Charlotte's mental screech slowly faded, and he yanked the cord from around his neck. Russell stared in disbelief at Charlotte's still form, her wide, unseeing eyes staring straight at him. He surged to his feet as the woman dragged John the last few feet into the room, lurching forward to try to get to them in time.

She straightened as her brown hair whipped back and away from her face, and Russell felt wind hit him strongly in the back. He lunged forward as the door started to swing, catching the handle only to have the wind rip out of his grasp.

The wind vanished as quickly as it had come, and Russell yanked the door open, knowing even as he did so it would be useless. The door's handle had changed from the charming brass handle back to cold mass-produced steel, the wooden surface hard metal once again. He walked out into the concrete hallway, staring around at the exposed piping and metal fencing that once again made up the innards of the abandoned subway station.

Russell backed out of the doorway, the deep bruise in his neck reminding him of the reality of the situation. He couldn't stop picturing the blood running down the side of John's head and Charlotte's wide staring eyes. She had looked dead. His throat ached as he swallowed hard, knowing he should get Cara and teleport to the next safe house. But for the longest time, he couldn't move.

He couldn't face the possibility that when he turned around, he would see Cara's eyes staring at him in death.


	2. Chapter 2 :: Laura

_Out of curiosity - does it bother anyone else when they refer to the Tomorrow people as a new species? I'm fairly sure by current scientific standards, they would be a sub-species - at best._

* * *

John came awake slowly, painfully. Handcuffs bound his wrists and he tried to teleport; it was his first reaction, instinctive and immediate. His body shook violently as a wave of pain caused his muscles to spasm, jaw and throat clenched too tight to scream as his skull felt like it was being ripped in two. He collapsed against his binds, feeling shaky and exhausted, his whole body trembling in reaction. His skull throbbed, pounding against his skull, but some inner warning kept him silent. Moving hurt, so he took in as much detail as he could while he sat there. His hands were pulled behind a chair and handcuffed together, but his legs were free.

He lifted his head up as he opened his eyes, inadvertently groaning as sore muscles were pulled and stretched. He was in an apartment; presumably the same apartment that he had seen through the wooden door Laura had made. He was facing a wall of cabinets, high-end ones of polished maple. The carpet was pristine white, the billiard's table off to his left was a dark wood trimmed in silver. To the right was the pristine door, and lying on the floor -

John froze, staring at Charlotte's prone form. She was facing away from him, her curly brown hair swept across her face, and lying unnaturally still. _{Charlotte? Please, can you hear me? Charlotte?}_ His head throbbed again, and he eased off on the telepathy. "Charlotte?" He called soft as he could, voice hoarse. "Charlotte?"

"She won't answer you."

John stiffened at the voice, but he didn't try to turn around. It sounded like the woman was directly behind him. A soft hand brushed his shoulder as she walked past, confirming his guess. She turned to face him, eyes cold and calculating. In another situation John thought she could have been beautiful. As it was, her narrow features and cold expression made her look like a knife; sharp and full of hard angles. Her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, emphasizing her high cheekbones and almond eyes. She had washed off the dirt and changed her clothes, doing much to shed the persona of the lost but down-to-earth woman he had encountered in the subway. "She's not dead, not yet, if that's what you're wondering."

John couldn't stop himself from relaxing a little , even as he knew it would be bad to give her any indication of how much he wanted to protect the youngster. Like him, she had been tortured and experimented on by Ultra, and he had helped her to find her feet when she had first come to live with them.

The woman's eyes glimmered in triumph. "I didn't know if she would be useful - I only wanted you, actually - but I think this will work out even better than I hoped."

"I won't help you," John snarled automatically.

"Actually," Laura smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I think you will."

* * *

The air swirled crazily as Steven and Kate jumped into the room, Steven glancing around wildly before he caught sight of Russell. He was across the room in less than a heartbeat, grabbing the man's shoulders. "Where is she?"

"This way," Russell said quietly, leading Steven to the back of the half-built abandoned apartment. He opened the door to the most enclosed of the rooms, where Cara was lying on a bed of blankets. They had a fluid drip taped to her arm, and a cold compress across her forehead. Russell nodded back, and the man who had been keeping an eye on her got up to leave.

"Sorry Steven," he said softly, grabbing him lightly on the shoulder as he passed.

Steven swallowed as he dropped to his knees, grabbing her hand in his. He brushed the hair away from her eyes, whispering softly to her. "How?" He asked softly, pain etched into his voice.

"We have no idea," Russell said. "I have no idea. That woman took John -" He had to take a deep breath before continuing. "And Charlotte, and I have no clue how she did it. She walked through a door and was gone."

"She teleported?"

"No."

Steven glanced around at him, frowning. "How did you lose her then?"

"She - she," Russell threw up his hands in the air. "Damn it, I have no frickin' clue! One minute the subway door was polished wood, the next it was regular steel again! There was a whole room behind that door - high end stuff too - but I tried to jump there, and it didn't work! Why didn't it work?" He punched the wall, swearing as he broke skin.

Steven closed his eyes, pushing his palms against them. They didn't know how to fix Cara, they didn't even know what happened, and they had no way of tracking down John and Charlotte. "There can't be that many places like the one you saw, right?"

Russell snorted. "There might be a few, but what millionaire is going to let me into their mansion to take a look around?"

"Don't ask. Find them."

Russell sighed. "I'll try."

* * *

"I can save her yet." Laura walked over to the young girl's still form, using her foot to push her onto her back. Charlotte's head lolled sideways, her eyes wide and staring. It look like she was breathing. One hand flopped off to the side as Laura flipped her over, her forearm marked with a black handprint. Veins running up her arm and across her hand had turned black, giving the lacy appearance of an intricate tattoo.

John shook with suppressed emotion as he stared at the young girl. "What did you do to her?"

"Her body is in a form of stasis; it is why she is not dead yet." Laura was dispassionate, clinical. John didn't doubt for a moment that she would let the girl die. "It's only a matter of time, however. Once the drug reaches her heart there will be nothing I can do."

John stared at Charlotte, looking for any movement, any indication of life. "I need to know she's alive."

"Very well." Laura leaned down to her, placing her hands over the black handprints on her skin. Her eyes rolled back in her skull as the black veins started to fade. The black streaks recoiled onto themselves, snaking up Laura's arms. Laura let go of Charlotte's wrists a moment later, leaving only a vague black mark where the dark handprint had been outlined before.

Charlotte shuddered, her body spasming violently. John yanked at the handcuffs, shooting pain up his arm. The girl started coughing, deep racking coughs that shook her whole body, and suddenly she was moving. She struggled away from Laura, fighting to control the coughing, glancing at everything around her. Spotting John, she lurched towards him, managing to take in a shuttering breath.

Charlotte froze next to John's chair as Laura turned her head towards them. Her eyes were completely white as she stared at them. Slowly her brown eyes reemerged, rotating down into their normal position. "Enough proof?"

_{Charlotte?}_

_{I can hear you!}_ Charlotte's voice was scared but triumphant. It was faint, but he could hear it.

_{I can't teleport - I'm too disoriented. Whatever she did to me has stopped most of my abilities. Can you get us out of here?}_

Charlotte's hand tightened around John's leg, her mouth thinning in concentration. John jerked as her fingernails dug into his leg, watching in horror as her head snapped back and she collapsed to the floor. Her eyes rolled up in her head, mouth wide open and straining, feet shoving at the carpet as she lifted herself off. Her mental screech shot through the room, and Laura clasped her hands to her head.

"Make her stop!" She screamed at him. "Or I will!"

"Charlotte!" John bent towards her, as far as the handcuffs would allow. "Charlotte, come back! It's all right!" His eyes were watering from the pain, he could almost feel nails digging into his head. "Cut me loose, I can't get to her!"

Laura flicked her hand at him and he crashed to the ground. The handcuffs were still on, but the chair was gone. He lay dazed, the ringing in his ears fighting with his disorientation.

_"Shut her up!"_ The woman's shout rang through the room, resonating in a way that shouldn't have been possible, and John lurched over to Charlotte. He could still feel her fingers biting into his leg; the other hand was clenched so tightly that blood was welling in her palm.

"Charlotte!" He called, kneeling next to her. _{Charlotte!}_ Pain and mental anguish battered at him, slamming into his head over and over again. _{Charlotte, come back to me! Listen to me!}_ Slowly, the screaming faded from the room, leaving only a pulsing headache in its wake.

Charlotte gasped and curled into John, tears running down her face. "I can't teleport," she whispered through broken sobs. "I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't…"

_{It's okay,}_ he replied over her litany. _{It will be okay.}_

"How?" She wailed, burying her face in his chest. _{It's like that place - it's like being at the Citadel again!}_

"Listen to me," he leaned away from her, ducking his head to look in her eyes. _{I will NEVER_ _leave you, understand? We will get out of this. Cara and Russell and Steven - all our friends - will be looking for us. I promise, I will get you out of here.}_

_{You promise?}_ She hiccupped slightly, hope just starting to fill her eyes.

_{I promise.}_ John felt a cold certainty settle on him as Charlotte curled into him once again. Laura would kill them as soon as she had what she wanted. He had to get them out before that happened.

John rested his chin on Charlotte's head, feeling the silent sobs still racking her body. _{Cara? Steven?} _He called telepathically, wondering if they could even hear him. Wondering if they were completely alone.

* * *

Steven jogged up Ultra's steps with a mixed feeling of dread and anger. Did his uncle know what was going to happen? Was Cara going to die like those guards did? He slowed his pace as he reached the operations center, since he didn't want to attract everyone's attention. He got enough for just being Jed's nephew.

"Do you know where Dr. Price is?" He asked one of the agents, but only got a glare in response.

Steven sighed, turning away.

"Jameson!" His training agent snapped at him from the doorway. Come with me."

Jameson followed the agent down the hallway, jogging to catch up. "Any updates? Do we know how the guards died yet?"

He shrugged. "If the scientists are making any progress, they're keeping it to themselves. In there."

Steven entered one of the research rooms, unsure of what to expect. Jedikiah was leaning over a technician, pointing to something on the man's computer screen. They were discussing something softly enough that Steven couldn't hear what they were saying.

His uncle straightened, catching sight of Steven at the doorway. He murmured something to the tech, then wove his way through the lab's scientific equipment. "This way," he said softly, leading Steven into a locked office.

"Did you know?" He burst out, unable to contain his anger any longer. "Did you know they were in danger?"

Jedikiah glanced back at him, jaw tightening. "Is…?"

"She's fine," Steven said shortly. "Cara was injured."

"I'm sorry, Steven," Jedikiah said softly. "And … John?"

Steven hesitated. "Why did you think he was involved?"

"I didn't, not really." His uncle moved around the desk, sliding into his seat. "A vial of John's blood was missing, and I assumed that he might be a target."

"Why didn't you just _tell_ me that?"

Jedikiah raised an eyebrow, and Steven sighed. "I know we're not trying to help them. Cara's unconscious - that's all they would tell me."

Jedikiah leaned forward, steepling his fingers together. "She was attacked by the same person that attacked our guards?"

"Well it fits, doesn't it?" Steven shrugged. "Lone woman, late twenties, brown hair, average height, thin. Olive skin, possibly of Spanish decent."

"Detailed description."

"They want her caught just as much as we do."

Jedikiah nodded. "Is that all?"

"There was one thing -" Steven hesitated, unsure if he should tell his uncle.

"Yes?"

"Her abilities - are not quite like ours."

"What do you mean?"

Steven shrugged. "I have no idea. They just warned me to be careful. Said that she can do things they don't know how to explain."

"Interesting," Jedikiah mused. "Did they happen to elaborate?"

Steven shook his head.

"Too bad." He turned to the computer on the desk and started typing.

"Sir?"

"Yes?" Jedikiah glanced up, a suffering tolerance in his gaze.

"Is there any way we could help Cara?" The words rushed out of his mouth; he regretted it as soon as he spoke. He should have been calmer, more controlled. As if that was possible, with Cara in danger.

Jed leaned back in his chair, frowning. "I thought you said she was just injured?"

"The woman - did something to her. She won't wake up," Steven finished lamely, shifting on his feet. He shouldn't be bringing this to Jedikiah. He shouldn't even be _mentioning_ it.

"And how do the others feel about this?" Jed smirked as Steven glanced away. "They don't know, do they?"

"They can't help her!" Steven said desperately, leaning towards his uncle in emphasis. "What ever she got drugged with, they don't have the capability to deal with it. We do."

"So you want Ultra to help a dangerous fugitive, who is currently in league with a wanted ex-agent, all because you like her?"

"Yes." Steven winced. "She's a civilian now. Harmless."

Jed's smile was as cold and brittle as ice. "Oh, I think we both know that isn't the case."

"But Ultra doesn't." Steven held his breath, wondering if he had pushed his luck too far.

"Do you think she was drugged with the same compound that killed the guards?"

"Maybe. I think so," Steven hedged. "It's possible, at least."

Jed rolled his eyes. "That's not at all reassuring."

"So will you help her?"

"I would need a vial of her blood. Then we can talk."

"I can do that."

Jed's eyebrows raised in surprise. "Really?"

"I can try at least!" Steven snapped.

"If you do this, someone could analyze her blood. Do you know what they would find?"

Steven swallowed before answering. "They would know I didn't -"

"Exactly."

"It's a risk I have to take."

"You seem to be in fairly close contact with them."

Steven felt his heart start hammering, and he gathered his answer carefully. "Not really. Cara would listen anytime; the others - I think they feel like they owe me."

"For Cara," Jedikiah mused.

"Yeah."

"I'm reassigning you to the operations taskforce."

"But -"

"People will start wondering where I'm sending my nephew if you keep vanishing. You will work this shift with the taskforce; if you can get her blood, bring it to me tomorrow. Cool it in the fridge for at least a half hour, and make sure it stays concealed."

"Yes sir," Steven said reluctantly, recognizing his uncle's dismissal. "Thank you."

* * *

"What did you do to her?" John asked softly, trying not to wake Charlotte. The billiards table leg was uncomfortable against his back, but it gave him something to lean against. Charlotte had cried herself to sleep and was currently curled up, resting her head on his lap.

The woman was sitting across the room, looking tired and pensive. The chair she was in was an old, wooden high-backed chair that John suspected was the one that had vanished out from under him. Everything about the place was fancy, detailed, and top of the line. And Laura just didn't fit.

It wasn't her clothes - not quite. Her jeans were stylish, they could have been that 'fashionably worn' style, but they looked a little too used. Her long-sleeve shirt was obviously high quality, the sleeves carelessly rolled up to her elbows. A silver pendant hung from a chain around her neck, and a silver charm bracelet dangled from her left wrist. He couldn't quite place what felt so wrong about her, except that it might have been the house itself. The room they were in was pristine; John had the feeling that it was meant to be left untouched, unused. That they - Laura, him, Charlotte - intruded by their mere presence.

Laura studied him for a long time, swirling her wine slowly. John wondered if she would answer him, but didn't rush the silence. As much as he hated to admit it, stalling for time was just about his only play at this point.

"What did you do to her?" John asked again, more forceful.

Laura rolled her eyes. "For now, it is nothing that will harm her."

"What do you mean, 'for now?'" Try as he might, John couldn't keep the anger out of his voice.

"If left in her system, the poison will likely kill her." She simply stated.

John stared at the woman, revulsion and anger fighting with logic. If he didn't keep his head, he wouldn't get answers, and he _needed_ answers. There would always be people like her, people who put their own needs and desires beyond everyone else's; those who did not care how they hurt another. The logic did little to calm the fury burning its way through his gut.

"So you drugged her." He kept his tone low enough that he wouldn't wake Charlotte. Pushing the anger to the back of his mind. Logic, cold and simple logic was the only thing that could help now.

"Yes." She shrugged. "That is what I did. _The how_ is a little more complicated."

Again, that insulting, condescending, infuriating tone that proclaimed she didn't care, didn't wonder about the consequences. That she could do whatever the hell she wanted, regardless. That he couldn't do a thing to stop her. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Trying to look at the situation logically. He wasn't only angry at her. He was angry at himself, at his inaction, at the trace of _fear_ making him cautious. Making him take a step back, in an attempt to gather as much information as possible before he made a move against her.

Every instinct in his gut screamed that he needed to kill her, now, before he couldn't. Before she killed him. Before she killed Charlotte. It was an alien feeling; some primal instinct deep in his soul that brought the fear and caution and anger all together, something that said that she was _dangerous_. He was used to danger. He accepted the fact that he might die in his fight against Ultra. This was different.

He pushed the feeling away, anger building again. _Why_ was he feeling this way? It wasn't as if he hadn't gone up against killers before. He recognized it in her - the indifference, the lack of care - but the fact that the feeling was _there_ in the first place was enough to make him hesitate. He needed more information. He needed to know _why._

"Why what, John?" A ghost of a smile crossed Laura's lips, and bile rose in John's throat. He hadn't realized he had spoken aloud.

"Why us?" He needed to know.

She stared at him pensively, the smile gone, the wineglass still in her hand. Unconsciously, he thought, she rubbed the silver charms hanging from her wrist, her eyes drifting away from his. "I've run into your kind before." She spoke soft enough that John had to strain to hear her. She stared into the distance, eyes unfocused, thinking about some other time and place. "It was when I still was learning my Art, when my Master had me under his complete control."

She paused, but it was the kind of pause used to gather her thoughts. "I was just coming into my powers - I have had the suggestions of power since I was born, that is why he chose me - but that year I came into my true abilities. With the arrival of my power came new restrictions; I could not spend hours on my own as I once had; I could no longer leave the house unaccompanied; things like this made me angry at him, wishing for a way to strike back."

"Why didn't you just leave?" He was trying to understand her. Trying to find something that would give him an edge.

"Leave?" She smiled, a sad smile that laughed at the very notion of escape. "He would have found me within the week. I was too unskilled in the Arts, and he was far too powerful.

"But there were times that I could bribe the servants and sneak out at night. Never for long enough for him to notice - or so I thought - but those moments of freedom were enough to keep me content, for a while.

"I was seventeen when I met Sara. I was heading down to the clubs one night, after I snuck out, when several men started harassing me. It was late at night, they were drunk, and I shoved them away from me. I hit one of them hard enough to send him over the railing and into the river - I heard him swearing when he surfaced, but I wouldn't have cared if he had drowned. The other men had no idea what had happened - they were all laughing like idiots because their friend had fallen into the river. They had no idea I had power. They wandered over to stare down at him, jeering, and it was easy to send them over the rail as well.

"Sara had seen me - she approached rather tentatively - 'You're like me,' she said, quite breathless. 'I don't know what you're talking about,' I remember replying, wary of any trap my Master might have set. He was a jealous man, and if he knew I was applying the Arts at night, practicing when he could not see, I'm not sure I would have survived his temper. Oh, he would have regretted my death in the morning, but only because he had broken a favored possession." Her voice was only slightly bitter as she stopped to take a sip of wine.

"'You're one of the Tomorrow People.' I had no idea what she was talking about, of course, but I went along with it. In the beginning I had assumed she had Power, and had studied in the Arts. Or perhaps she had never had a proper teacher, as she kept referring to these 'Tomorrow People.' I later learned that she was indeed something different, something new. She also came to understand that I could do things that she could only dream of. But that night I only learned she was telepathic, and with effort she could contact me. That was how our relationship began."

Laura stared into space, lost in thought.

"What happened next?" John prompted. He didn't know what she meant by the Arts or Power - she kept referring to the terms as if they meant something special - but he hoped she would explain in time.

"I was desperate for a friend, and reckless. I wanted to try my hand at all the things my Master had been teaching me, and in Sara I found the perfect accomplice. She supported my every action, and was always excited when I would try out a new trick or push my skills even further.

"One of my favorite tricks was influencing the world around us; making us seem older than we really were. She was only fifteen at the time, a runaway who had been living on the streets. I got us into the best clubs, the finest restaurants, and ended up getting her a semi-permanent room a very nice hotel. Every night we would meet at a different location, pick out what we wanted to do that night, and we would go clubbing and compare aspects of our powers. Her natural ability at both telekinesis and telepathy was far superior to my measly attempts, and, with a fair amount of patience that I didn't know she possessed, she taught me how to better direct my Power. After experimentation, we found we could link together, seeing through each other's eyes, and experiencing events through the other's senses. Over time, I found that when we linked, I could control her utterly, even while remaining in possession of my own body. She said it was an unnerving experience, but trilling as well. When we did link together, our powers, especially telepathy, were stronger than ever. We could influence practically anyone we wanted to.

"It was a fun, crazy time that wouldn't last. Ultra came for her, and she barely escaped. After that, we slowed down our wild exploits. My Master had been getting suspicious as well, for I had been sneaking out, night after night, for nearly a year at that point. He was getting stricter, and I started to fear for my life if he ever found out. I was leaping at shadows, and very reluctant to leave the house when Sara came up with a solution. She would enter as a servant in my Master's household, and I could request her to be my personal maid. Since we had already discovered that I could not sense her abilities, even when she teleported, he would never know. She could spy on him for me, and she would never have to worry about food, housing, or Ultra again."

"Did Ultra track her down?" John asked, hearing a strange note in her voice when she mentioned the group.

Laura laughed softly, an angry glimmer in her eyes. "Aye, they did. Nearly two years after they had failed in catching her, they broke in my Master's door. It was a sight to behold." She smiled at John's frown. "I had been training in my full Power for nearly eight years by that point; my Master had been a Practitioner for nearly a century, and his power has only grown in the time I have known him.

"The agents were completely unprepared. They came through that door, expecting some telekinesis, maybe a little physical violence; they were not expecting us. I sealed the doors behind and before them while my Master turned their weapons on themselves. Several were killed instantly, of the others, only a few were not gravely wounded.

"He saw it as a training exercise, and indeed it was. He could have taken the entire team apart without me there, but he said I needed the experience. He told me what he wanted done with the survivors, so I linked with Sara. I would need all the power I possessed to utterly destroy the minds of the five men."

* * *

Charlotte moved slightly, and John stifled an instinctive jerk. He had almost forgotten she was there, he was so caught up in the story. Was that what she would do to him, once she was done with him?

John double checked that the girl still slept before looking back up at Laura. "She won't wake, John." The woman shook her head at his glare. "It is nothing to harm her, just a slight persuasion to stay asleep. I do not fancy taking the brunt of that scream again."

"She was experimented on by Ultra as a child." He didn't know why he spoke; maybe it was in the hope that she would see herself, and take pity on the child.

"Such a waste," the woman frowned. "Taken young and nurtured properly, a child can grow to exactly what is need. But isn't that what happened with you?"

It was John's turn to frown. "I left."

"But not until after they made you into the weapon you are."

"You said you destroyed the minds of the men. What did you mean?"

She laughed but let him change the subject. "The ones who were going to die anyway, I destroyed completely. I took their memories, their personality, their sense of self - everything that made them who and what they were - and burned it out. They didn't know how to walk or talk by the time I was through." John stared at her, fighting to control the bile rising in his throat. She smiled, and he had a sick realization that she was enjoying this. "For the others, I only targeted their surface memories, leaving their faculties, even their knowledge of weapons and fighting, intact. They simply could not remember anything up to and including driving back to Ultra. Some fragments of memory might have still been there, a name, a face, other powerful and simple facts. But nothing complete. They would never again remember what or who they had been."

With a pang, John realized what she must have been talking about. It had been five, going on six years ago, right when he decided to undergo the risky process that would make him Ultra's 'ultimate' agent. He had been excluded from the team because of the experimentation, and only managed to get the barest facts afterwards. It was all everyone would talk about for weeks - the team of seven had driven back to Ultra, the bodies of the two dead agents and three critically injured lying next to each other in the vans. Of the two men able to walk, one had collapsed in the main reception area, but the other had made it to Jedikiah. According to rumor, all he had said was 'Come again, and the world will know,' before he had collapsed into Jedikiah's arms. The two surviving agents had been transferred to another field office, and that was the last time anyone had seen them. Theories about the culprit had ranged from a competing world government to a private organization. John wondered if Jedikiah had ever figured out who had destroyed his team.

"You haven't answered my question yet," John said softly. He was still thinking about that team of agents; an experienced team, taken out by only two people, if he was to believe Laura's story. He had to figure out a weakness, find a way he could beat her.

"I guess not," she mused. "I am a Practitioner of the Arts, and as such my studies have been in psychokinesis. It is related to telekinesis in a way, but it is not limited to moving objects around a room. With it, I am able to warp the fabric of reality."

"Like vanishing the chair."

"A crude way to put it, but yes. Like vanishing a chair."

John leaned his head against the billiards table, trying to wrap his head around the concept. "So why do you need us?"

Laura sighed theatrically. "Just because psychokinesis is more _flexible, _does not mean that it is more _powerful. _In certain areas, I do require assistance if I am to meet my goals." She smiled at him, a wolf-like, feral grin that hinted of anger and hate. "But do that think that I cannot control you, John. Like I said, psychokinesis is _very_ flexible."

"Is that how you drugged us - dropped Cara to the ground - with a simple touch?" He wasn't bothering to keep his voice down. He wanted Charlotte to wake up. He _needed_ Charlotte to wake up. He needed Laura to be proved wrong.

"Cara," Laura rolled the name over her tongue, like she was tasting the word as she said it. "That is the girl who was with you?" She laughed at John's anger, carried in his face even though he tried to hide it. "It is no matter.

"In an answer to your question, yes. I found I was able to manipulate certain compounds already in the human body so they would have the desired effect. It puts the body in a frozen state, slowing and regulating it to preserve it. After trial and error, however, I discovered that once my new compound stops the heart, the body cools and it can no longer be revived."

"You killed people to discover this." John struggled to keep his tone flat and even. She was reading him too easily, seeing through the mask he had on his face. She was getting to him, and he had to calm down. He had to keep her talking, and to do that, he had to keep his head.

"Yes, several dozen, actually. It was part of my studies."

"Sara?"

"Would help me lure the homeless, the ones she knew would not be missed. She was reluctant to do so, but I changed her mind."

John felt a bitter feeling rise in his throat. "And where is she now?"

Laura shrugged. "I don't know. Either my Master killed her or she escaped. We have not been in contact since."

"Do you always abandon your friends so easily, or was that a special case?"

A spark of anger in her eyes had John suppressing a surge of triumph. He got to her once, he could do it again.

"You might want to tread lightly, John. You have no idea what I can do."

"Why don't you tell me, then?"

Her eyes sparkled as she leaned towards him with a snarl. "That if I modified a different compound, I could shut off Sara's abilities completely. I would sneak out sometimes, and Sara would help me track down your kind. She came to like it, overtime. To enjoy the search, the hunt, the kill."

John struggled to keep his face emotionless, but judging by the way Laura's smile widened, he wasn't doing a particularly good job. "Sometimes our nights produced no fruit, but on others, I learned things I never would have know otherwise. Your telepathic abilities that you are so proud of - they make it far easier for me to control you than to attempt such a thing with a regular human." She laughed again, leaning back in her chair to take another sip of wine. "In evolving, you shed the natural defenses your ancestors carried to protect them from ones such as me. Your kind are even more vulnerable to my touch than humans are. Humans of the modern world may have forgotten that we exist, but they used to fear us as they did no others."

"So? What are you?" John asked, the anger making him snap. That strong gut instinct was back in full force, warning him to _be careful_. Warning that she was _dangerous._ As if he didn't know.

"I am a Practitioner of the High Arts of Magick." She swirled her nearly empty wineglass, and John realized that the level was slowly rising until it was half-full again. Laura followed his gaze and smiled, a full, happy, delighted-with-her-success smile. "A sorcerer, if you will."


	3. Chapter 3 :: Promises

_A/N :: I hope you enjoy the chapter! Meant to update earlier, but I'm horrible at keeping on a schedule. Next update should be soonish, already have the chapter written! As always, reviews greatly appreciated!  
_

* * *

_Chapter 3 _

_~ Promises ~_

* * *

"Why did you tell me this?" John asked, sometime later.

"You would have discovered at least some of it for yourself soon enough. It was a calculated risk - but I believe you can now fully grasp what I am capable of, and you have some time to adapt." She pushed herself to her feet, the wineglass vanishing from her hand. "Can you stand?"

"I'm not leaving Charlotte."

She sighed, and flicked her wrist at them. The oddest sense of disorientation hit John for the briefest of moments; it was as if he were sitting on the ceiling instead of on the floor. Charlotte's weight drifted off his lap, and then everything reoriented itself with a snap.

John shook his head, trying to rid himself of the lingering sense of disorientation. Charlotte floated about a foot off the floor, her hair and arms slowly drifting like she was underwater. Laura made a sweeping motion, and the girl floated across the room. She smiled as John staggered to his feet. "I thought that might work."

Laura led him down a lavish hallway, stopping at a door at the end. "It's not a bedroom, but I tried to make it comfortable." The door swung open, revealing a bathroom as large as most living rooms. A bathtub the size of a Jacuzzi was sunk into the floor at the far end, and it was filled to the top with blankets and pillows.

John raised an eyebrow.

"What? It was the only room with no windows." She stepped inside, motioning for John to follow her. He cautiously stepped into the room, keeping an eye on Charlotte's floating form.

"I left some food next to the sink, along with toothpaste, soap, and such if you are feeling so inclined." Laura stopped by the sunken bathtub. "Is there anything else I can get you?"

"Besides our freedom?" John asked drily.

She smiled wolfishly. "Besides that. You know, I think we'll get along splendidly."

John stepped between her and the door when she went to move. "You're not taking Charlotte."

"Yes, I am, John." Her voice echoed strangely in the room, like it was coming from multiple places at once. His eyes widened as Laura started wavering in front of him, like she was simply a reflection on three-dimensional sheet of water. John spun as her image vanished, and he stared at Laura standing in the doorway. "Don't believe everything you see." She smiled hungrily, eyeing him like he was a prize possession. "Sometimes they're just constructs." Both she and Charlotte vanished.

* * *

John lunged for the open door, fear and doubt warring in his mind. He slammed into something solid, and he fell back, eyes watering, as he hit the ground. Blood ran down his nose and throat, and he curled onto his side, blinking hard to try to clear his eyes. He sat up slowly, breathing through his mouth as he ignored the pain. In front of him stood two doors, nearly identical. One was opened into the huge bathroom, standing propped open against the wall. The other was closed in its frame, but it didn't have a handle.

John spat blood out of his mouth, then rolled onto his back to slowly work his handcuffed arms around his hips. It was a tight fit, but he managed it. After that it was simply a matter of pulling his legs through his looped arms, and hoping his nose would stop bleeding soon.

John stood slowly, testing his balance. His headache had faded somewhat, but he still was a little unstable. He reached out for the closed door, brushing it with his fingers, before turning toward the other door. Even before he reached it the image wavered in front of him, dissolving in particles of light that quickly faded away.

He eyed the remaining door with little hope. It was massive, old oak, and she had even hidden the hinges somehow. He reached up, feeling along the edge of the doorway, but no further illusions were dispelled. The door was flush against the tile, and instead of a handle, a circular steel plate was cemented against the door. He tried to dig his fingers into the stone-hard glue surrounding the steel, but it felt even harder than the wood. The steel plate didn't have a keyhole, so he couldn't even try to pick the lock.

John kicked at the door in frustration, then backed up for a run. He hit the door hard with his shoulder, falling away and wincing at the pain. "Come on!" He yelled, eyeing the room. The floor and counters looked like smooth, plastic-lacquered granite, with a solid sheet of cold steel supporting the counters instead of traditional wooden cabinets. He kicked at a white-painted wall, wincing as his foot hit something harder than plaster or tile. Unless he had a sledgehammer, John doubted he would be able to get through it.

Even the toilet and faucets were stainless steel, and they wouldn't budge from where they were cemented in. The mirror was a sheet of polished metal, nice to look at, but useless as a weapon. Laura had stripped the bathroom bare.

John stared around him, wondering how he couldn't find some way out in such a situation. He glanced towards the ceiling, catching sight of the air duct covering. It looked small, but it was the only thing he hadn't tried. He fished a quarter out of his pocket before climbing onto the counter, using the wall to stabilize himself. He grabbed a hold of the air vent cover, hope fading as he felt the familiar texture of the epoxy cement. The screws had been covered as well, but he chipped at them hopefully with the quarter.

"Shit!" John swore as the quarter slipped out of his grasp, pinging along the floor. He dropped to the ground, hitting his hands and knees as the room swayed around him. The handcuffs bit into his wrists as he pulled against them, trying to stabilize himself by bracing his hands apart. Slowly the vertigo passed, and John looked around for the quarter. It had rolled only a little ways away, and he picked it up with a feeling of unease. The side of the quarter he had used to chip at the cement was flattened, and a large portion of the quarter had broken off. Epoxy cement wasn't supposed to be anywhere near that hard.

John sat back, leaning against the steel-sided counter. Closing his eyes, he tried to teleport across the room. It was something he had been able to do since he was a child; it should have been easy. Instead, it only gave him a blinding headache. He rubbed his temples, waiting for the pain to subside.

Cara…he had been avoiding thinking about Cara. She had been alive when he last saw her, but he was worried. To have dropped like she did, so quickly; the dose Laura gave her must have been much stronger than his had been. Hopefully, it hadn't been anywhere near as strong as what had happened to Charlotte.

His headache receding, John pushed himself to his feet, determined to look again for a way out.

* * *

"You went to Jedikiah?!" Russell exclaimed, outraged. "Are you insane?"

"I didn't tell him everything, give me some credit!"

"Did you tell him about John?"

"Of course not!" Steven grabbed Russell's arm as he started to walk away. "Jedikiah can _help_ her - he said he'd run her blood, see if they could find whatever's causing this!"

"And what else would they find?" Russell snapped back. "No way. You'll bring Ultra down on our heads!"

"Jed would never let anything happen to this place while Morgan's here - you know that!"

"No I don't, and neither do you." Russell grabbed Steven's shoulder, seriously worried. "You shouldn't trust him that much - he would kill you in a heartbeat if he knew you were working with us. Neither John or Cara would want you to risk exposure like this!"

"It's worth it!"

"No it's not, Steven. And I can't let you do it."

Steven ground his teeth in frustration and backed away from Russell. "At least tell me she's getting better." His heart sank when his friend didn't reply. "She's not worse, is she?"

Russell shrugged, glancing at the room they had turned into a sickbay. "Honestly, man, I have no idea. She's just not waking up, and no one can figure out why."

"Any luck with tracking John and Charlotte?"

"No."

"Damn it!" Steven swore, slamming his fist into the wall. He winced at the pain, then leaned his forehead against the wall as he tried to think. "Is there anything else we can do?"

Russell's silence was enough of an answer.

* * *

John collapsed onto his own version of a make-shift bed, comprised of a few blankets and pillows, doubled up to provide a little cushion against the hard floor. Even if his balance was still off in the morning, he wanted the best chance he could to be able to fight back. The tub might have been more comfortable, but it would have been a problem to get out of quickly.

He hadn't been able to find a way out - only a note, which he had found after ripping the metal mirror off the wall. It had been written directly onto the wall, and only said, "You should get to bed, John."

After that, he had done his best to completely wreck the bathroom. He had given up after several hours of mostly unsuccessful vandalism attempts.

_{Cara?}_ John wondered if she would be able to hear him even if she was a couple of feet away, his telepathic voice sounded so distorted. _{Charlotte? Charlotte!}_ He called deep into the night, desperately listening for someone's - anyone's - answer.

* * *

Steven jerked awake, the last fragments of chaotic dreams flashing before his eyes. The reflected glow of a streetlight shone on the ceiling of his bedroom, and turned the room from black to just past dark. He rolled to his feet, shrugging uncomfortably as cold sweat made his t-shirt stick to his skin. Steven crept across the dark hallway and into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. The bathroom plunged into darkness, the only light a thin line indicating the bottom of the door. He felt in the darkness for the faucet handle, twisting it on once he found it.

The details of the dreams were already slipping away, but he remembered the panic that had consumed him, the vivid fear, and the blind rage. There had been a box that was too small to move in, tight enough to cut off any avenue of escape. He had been running seemingly without end, and drowning as someone laughed. There was something with glaring lights, but the rest of the details were gone before he had a chance to remember them.

Steven splashed water on his face before twisting the faucet knob until the water trickled to a stop. The house, even the street was silent, an unusual occurrence for the suburbs of New York. A car sped by in the distance as he slipped back out of the bathroom, trying to be silent. He stared at his bed, a restless urge warring with the desire for sleep. It was past two am.

With a sigh, Steven dressed as silently as he could, changing his sweaty t-shirt out for a new one. He crept down the stairs, wincing as a board creaked under his foot. As soon as he shoved his sneakers on, he teleported for the new hideout.

* * *

"Steven!" Irene yawned as she struggled to stand up from the couch. "What are you doing here? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, I couldn't sleep." Steven glanced towards the door that Cara had been behind. "How is she?"

"She's getting worse. Russell's in there with her now." Steven headed for the door, and Irene flopped back down on the couch with another yawn. "I'll just stay here, then."

"Russell?" Steven inched open the door, sliding into the dimly lit room slowly. Cara was moaning on the make-shift bed, twisting under the covers.

"What are you doing here?" Russell glanced up at him, shifting position as he grabbed Cara's arms. "Never mind. Just help me hold her before she tears out the IV."

Steven grabbed her right arm and shoulder, pushing down as Cara tried to twist onto her side. Her eyes were flickering under her closed eyelids, and she kept mumbling something jumbled enough that Steven couldn't quite make out.

"Hand me that strap," Russell said, pointing to a seat-belt looking thing next to Steven's knee.

"You're going to strap her down?"

"Do you want to hold her down all night?"

Steven grimaced as he passed the strap over to Russell. Cara twisted under his grasp as Russell pulled it tight. "You sure these bolts are going to hold?" He asked, eyeing the thick bolt as it wiggled in the concrete floor..

"No. But it's the only thing we got. Hold her legs down, could you?"

Steven ducked as Cara nearly kicked him in the face, then grabbed her ankles as Russell pulled a second strap across her knees. Cara started screaming, kicking out violently. Steven swore as he got kicked in the face, yelling, "Take it off!"

Russell yanked the strap free as Steven fell away from her legs, scrambling to get back up to her head. He grabbed Cara's shoulders, pushing her back down to the ground. "Cara!" _{Cara! Listen to me, it's all right!}_

Violent, emotional turmoil hit him hard, briefly blinding him to the real world as crazy images flashed by his eyes. He pulled himself away with difficulty, fighting to clear his mind of the chaos. "Shit." He looked up at Russell, trying to ignore his throbbing head. "Has she pulled you in?"

"Yeah. Earlier. Sorry for not warning you," Russell said softly. Cara's struggles started to slow, her thrashing not as violent, her screams receding back to soft whimpers.

"We need help."

Russell's head jerked up. "No way."

"It's a chance we have to take. She's worse, and nothing we're doing can change it."

"Irene is running tests, trying to find out what's happening."

"By the time she finds something, it might be too late! Jedikiah can use Ultra's resources - we need to do this, Russell."

"Steven's right," Irene said from the doorway. "I don't have the facilities to identify unknown compounds here. We would need sophisticated computers that can run speck analysis. Without TIM, there isn't much I can do. Even with TIM, I'm not sure I could do anything. He might be a super computer, but he can't synthesize unknown compounds."

"Please, you have to trust me."

Russell sight. "It's not you I have a problem trusting. It's that sick uncle of yours. He'll stab us in the back at the soonest opportunity."

"I know that's it a risk, but if we do this, we just need to trust him. Besides, what could he do with a vial of blood?"

"I don't know, that's the point!" Russell threw up his hands, staring at Steven like he was out of his mind.

"Steven?"

Steven glanced around at Irene's hesitant question. "Yeah?"

"Why _are_ you trusting your uncle?"

"Do you see another choice?"

* * *

John woke up suddenly, expecting to hear his watch alarm. He glanced at the time piece, quickly noting that it wasn't set to go off for several minutes more. It was almost six am; he had been dozing on and off during the night, hoping she wouldn't be able to catch him asleep. John rolled to his feet, handcuffs tugging at his wrists. He walked over to the sink to splash water on his face.

Did she really think he'd believe her? Magic and sorcery and vanishing chairs notwithstanding, he was having a hard time convincing himself last night was real. She could just be one of Tomorrow People, albeit an extremely powerful one, messing with his mind. That would be a more likely scenario than magic.

Soft footsteps caused him to jerk around, staring at the door with no handle. John quietly moved off to the side of the door as it started to swing open, grabbing the woman as she walked into the room. She didn't make a sound, didn't even resist as he twisted her arm behind her, slamming her to the ground. John stared in confusion at the blonde girl in a maid's outfit, then glanced around him, expecting to see Laura nearby.

"Madam requests your presence in the dining hall," the girl said in a strange monotone. Her eyes were blank and staring, and she only blinked occasionally. John had her arm twisted far enough back that it should have hurt, but she didn't give any indication that it did.

"Where's Charlotte?"

"Madam requests your presence in the dining hall."

"Where's Charlotte?" He demanded again, twisting her arm a little harder. She didn't seem to notice.

"I am to lead you there," she said in the same flat voice.

"No thanks." John shoved himself to his feet, cautiously stepping out the doorway.

The girl slowly got to her feet, turning to face him. "I am to lead you there," she repeated, eyes blank and unfocused. "It is this way." She walked down the hallway, stopping when John didn't follow her. "That is not the way to go."

"Exactly," he muttered, turning the other direction. By what he had seen so far, the house must be _massive_. He might not be able to find Charlotte on his own, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to try. _{Charlotte?}_

_{John!}_ Her voice was distant and wavered slightly, but it was there.

_{Where are you? I'm coming for you.}_

_{I'm with _her_, but I have no idea where!}_ her mental voice trembled with fear. _{I can't do anything! I tried teleporting when I woke up this morning, but I nearly blacked out!}_

_{Maybe we hold off on the teleporting for now.}_

_{Okay,}_ she replied softly, her voice still fearful.

He ducked down another corridor, pulling open doors. The rooms were lavishly decorated, varying from bedrooms to sitting rooms, and one even had a billiards table in the center. He slammed the door shut in frustration, glancing down the hall at a glimmer of reflected light.

_{John?}_

_{Yeah?}_

_{I'm scared.}_

_{I know_.} He paused. _{It will be alright.}_

Hoping for a window, John jogged towards it. He slowed to a stop as he approached the glass pane, glinting and glimmering in the wall. It looked like it should have been a regular window, with curtains and window planes, but it glistened like a black liquid, held vertical in the window's spot. He reached out and brushed the smooth surface with his fingers, half surprised they came away dry. It even felt like a normal glass window, except that he couldn't see through it.

There was a staircase on his left, another hall on his right. On random impulse, he went down the stairs.

_{John?}_ Charlotte asked again. _{Do you think we will get out of here?}_

John hesitated as he ran down the steps, even though he yearned to reassure her. _{I don't know, Charlotte. She's powerful. But we're smart, and we've got some aces too.}_

_{Like what?}_

_{Do you really think she'd let us keep talking if she knew?}_

_{No!}_ Charlotte said hopefully. _{Do you think Cara will be able to hear us soon?}_

_{I think so. Cara has to get better first, though.}_

_{Oh.}_ Again, a long pause. John reached a landing, hesitated, then continued down the stairs. He descended slowly, listening to the uneasy feeling in his gut. It was like he had forgotten something important. Something … dangerous.

_{Do you think she's alive?}_

_{Cara? Yes.}_ Even as he said it, he knew he believed it. _{She's a fighter,}_ he continued with complete sincerity. _{If anyone can throw off Laura's influence, she can.} _ He left the stairs at the next landing, stepping out into the hallway. He walked down the hall, passing doors and casually dismissing the impulse to check inside. His goal would be at the end of the hall.

A brunette maid walked out of one of the rooms and he stopped dead as she curtsied to him. Her blank eyes made the hair on the back of his neck stand up, and he watched her walk into the next room before a shiver ran up his spine. John glanced behind him, the hallway stretching away, as cold sweat beaded on his forehead. He started backing up, turning to run back the way he came. He hadn't planned on coming this way. He hadn't wanted to. Somewhere in the back of his mind was the notion that if he went this way, he would find a door. An escape. The notion wasn't his. It had to have been planted.

He ran harder, zigzagging across the hall to check rooms as he passed them. He had to find Charlotte.

A laugh rang through the hallway, and resounding through his mind even as he glanced around for the source. The laughter inside his head echoed and overlapped the laughing in the hall, building into a strange symphony that put his teeth on edge. It was like nothing he had ever heard before. It made him feel unclean, as if someone was laughing in his ear, or was messing with his head.

"What do you want?" He yelled, spinning to look around him. "What do you want from me?"

The laughter lowered in volume, fading but not completely gone. _"Well done, John, you recognized my influence. I rather hoped you would._" Laura's voice purred in his head, soft laughter blending with her words. "_Now come along. We don't want to keep Charlotte waiting, do we?"_

The laughter faded away slowly, until John was left in a quiet, empty hall. He swallowed, glancing up and down the hall. Laura's message had left him shaken. Unlike when one of his own kind spoke to him, everything about Laura was an intrusion. It echoed, distorting and overlapping as she spoke, and left him with a throbbing headache.

_"Come along, John. Just follow the directions in your head."_

* * *

"Steven!"

He groggily opened his eyes at his mom's call, and glanced at the clock on the bedside table. It was just past six thirty.

"Steven, come down here now! Luca, it's time to get up!"

"Coming!" He yelled back as he rolled out of bed to get dressed.

"What did you do this time?" Luca mumbled as Steven passed his room. "She sounds pissed."

Steven yawned as he headed down the stairs. "What's up, mom?"

"What is this?" She held up a vial of blood, and Steven was completely awake in an instant. "Why do you have _blood_ in the fridge?"

Steven rushed down the stairs, taking it from her and putting it back into the fridge. "It's for Ultra. Like a science project. They're teaching us about the chemicals in blood and how they react to different environments."

"And you had to bring it _home?_"

Steven was glad he was facing away from her. "Jed said something about responsibility."

His mom sighed, gripping his shoulder as she passed him. "Just be careful, okay?"

"I will."

"Steven brought blood home from work? Cool!" Luca laughed as he tromped down the stairs.

"You heard that?" Steven groaned.

"Yep. What's for breakfast? I'm starving."

"Pancakes. Steven, would you mind setting the table?"

"Sure," Steven said, his heart still thumping in his chest. He was getting better at lying, but he wasn't sure he liked it.

* * *

"John!" Charlotte flung herself out of the wooden chair with a shriek, jumping onto him with all the energy of a run-away freight train.

"Oof." He staggered back, her arms twined around his neck, handcuffed arms squished between the two of them. For a moment he just stood there, silently appreciating Charlotte's familiar presence. Following Laura's directions had left him unnerved and jumpy. It had been one of the most disturbing experiences of his life. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." She said softly as she dropped back to the floor. "You?"

"Yeah." John looked over at Laura, who was calmly eating at the massive wooden table in the center of the room. She smiled politely at him, then returned to her food.

"Do your wrists hurt?" Charlotte asked softly, eyeing him with worry.

John shook his head. His wrists were reddened by the handcuffs, but they didn't hurt that much. "I'm fine."

"She said that we're suppose to eat." Charlotte glanced at the long table; two plates had been set next to each other at the farthest end from Laura.

"It might be a good idea." John said, trying to ignore his growling stomach.

"Do you think it's safe?" Charlotte asked dubiously.

"I don't know. What is there?" John asked, but with what Laura seemed to be capable of, he doubted the food would be poisoned.

"She said 'anything that doesn't require a massive amount of cooking.'"

John snorted at Charlotte's impression, getting a small smile out of the girl. "Well, we need the food. What do you want?"

"Chocolate chip pecan pancakes," she said quick enough that John laughed.

"Been thinking about it a bit, have you?"

"Only a little," she said sheepishly. "What do you want?"

"Pancakes sound good."

"Sir!" Steven ran up the last few steps as he caught sight of his uncle.

* * *

"Isn't it a school day?" Jedikiah asked, frowning as he turned away from several Ultra agents.

"Yeah, but this is important. I can talk to you privately?"

"Please excuse me," Jed said flatly, grabbing Steven by the arm and leading him into his office. "What are you doing?" He snapped after he closed the door.

Steven stared at him for a second before he got his bearing back. "I thought you wanted…"

Jedikiah rolled his eyes as he headed for the desk. "Not by interrupting me, not by sneaking off before school, and certainly not by acting as if the world's going to end if you don't talk to me right now!"

"How else was I suppose to get the blood to you before school?" Steven asked, stung.

"First off by following decorum, not interrupting me in the middle of a meeting, and _waiting your turn_. Do you understand me?" Jed rubbed his temples, irritation showing in his face.

"Yes sir," Steven replied stiffly. "But I got her blood."

"I gathered that," Jed said dryly. "But I am surprised that you managed to get it at all."

"She's getting worse."

"Ah." Jed turned away, opening several desk drawers. "That would explain it."

"Can you help her?"

"I don't know Steven. I don't believe we should."

Steven bit his lip, looking away from Jed. "This woman who attacked the guards -"

"Assuming it is the same person."

"Assuming that, yes," Steven said impatiently. "She's dangerous, right? She broke into your secret lab and stole from you without even being caught on camera. If the compounds in Cara's blood help you understand what she's capable of, wouldn't that make it worth it?"

"It could help." Jed took the vial of blood from him and slid it into a paper bag. "Now you'd better get off to school before you get both of us in trouble."

"Yes sir."

* * *

He couldn't breathe. A thick cord of pressure wrapped around John's neck, holding him off the ground. He kicked frantically, trying to find the chair that should have been nearby.

_"I don't need her John! I only need you!"_ Laura's voice resounded through the room, slamming through his skull with a jarring impact. He clawed at the pressure around his neck, feeling thick air move around his fingers like jelly. _"Either control her or I will,"_ her face flooded into his vision, seemingly only inches away. He reached out to grab her as her voice faded, but the image waivered and vanished as he touched it. John caught a glimpse of Laura across the room, pressing a bloody rag against her shoulder. She was livid, snarling at him, hair disarrayed as it fell around her shoulders.

Then the pressure around his neck released and John collapsed to the ground, gasping. His right arm burned in pain, and cradled it against his chest as he sucked in air. The room slowly came into focus, but his mind swirled with confusion. He couldn't remember - something must have happened - but he couldn't remember. Frantically, he tried to retrace what had happened. Charlotte had asked him about pancakes. They sat down to eat. A vague impression of Charlotte giggling about something. Laura rolling her eyes. Then nothing. Laura had been so furious with him and Charlotte, but he had no clue why.

Charlotte. He paused, head spinning as he turned to look around him. Where - there. "Charlotte?" John rasped as he turned over, hissing in pain as his arm hit the carpet. He pulled himself up to his hands and knees, taking care not to let his right arm touch anything. John lurched over to the girl, eyeing her still form with worry. She was wrapped around one of the table legs like she had been flung into it.

He gently pulled her onto her back, hoping he had understood Laura right. Hoping that it meant she wasn't dead. "Charlotte!" He rasped, shaking her lightly. She was barely breathing, her eyes flickering rapidly in their sockets. He shook her harder, and her eyelids fluttered, then closed again. "Charlotte!" John yelled, slapping her face when she didn't respond. _{Come on, wake up!}_

She jerked away from the slap, eyes rolling back in her head as her mouth opened in a soundless scream. "Charlotte!" _{Charlotte, it's okay! It's John, it'll be okay!}_ She struggled against his grip, eyes unfocused and flaring wide in panic. "Charlotte!" John grabbed her wrists, struggling to hold the small girl down. He leaned over her, wincing as she hit his injured arm. _{Charlotte!}_

The girl's eyes started to focus on him, and her slowly her struggles eased. _{Charlotte, are you okay?}_

Her eyes dropped to his wrists, and he followed her gaze, swallowing hard as he took a good look at them. He uncurled his bloody wrists from around hers, his flesh lacerated where the handcuffs had cut into his flesh. A shiny red burn wrapped around his right arm from the palm of his hand to his elbow. He stared at it, wondering how it happened. It started to burn, as if even thinking about the burn caused it to hurt. _{I'm sorry,}_ Charlotte's whisper had him jerking his eyes away from the burn, trying to force the pain away. He focused on the girl, her eyes shining with unshed tears. _{I'm so sorry! I tried, John, I tried!}_

_{No, hey, it's not your fault,}_ John pulled her close, looping his arms around her and pulling her close with his left arm. She buried her face in his shoulder and silently sobbed. A quiet certainty filled him - Laura had been messing with his head. That much was evident from his memory loss.

His eyes fell on a bloody fork lying nearby, and everything fell in place. _{You stabbed her with the fork, didn't you?}_

_{I couldn't let her keep hurting you!}_ She wailed, clutching tighter to him.

He let a soft chuckle reach her telepathically. _{She was pretty pissed.}_

_{Really?}_ Charlotte looked up at him, checks wet from tears running down her face. He moved his burned arm away from her as she moved, trying not to wince as her clothes brushed the injury.

_{Yeah. I think you got her good.}_

_{Good.}_ Charlotte snapped viciously, mouth tightening in anger.

_{Thanks, girl.}_ John rested his chin on her head as she leaned back into him. _{But I need you to promise me something.}_

"What?" Charlotte mumbled.

_{I need you to promise that no matter what happens, no matter how she hurts me, you will _never_ do anything like that again.}_

John winced in pain as Charlotte shoved away from him, ducking to slide under his arms. "No!"

"Charlotte…"

"No way!" Charlotte screamed at him as she stumbled to her feet. "You can't ask me that! Look what she did to you!"

"Charlotte!" John shoved himself to his feet, grabbing Charlotte's shoulder with his left hand. He leaned over, searching her angry, tear-filled eyes. "Charlotte, she needs me alive. She does _not_ need you alive. She will _kill _you."

"I don't care!"

"Charlotte!" John shook her, hard. He hoped she could see his desperation. "_Listen _to me. This is not Ultra." Her mouth tightened into a thin line, eyes hardening as she glared at him. "Ultra follows rules, regulations. The Citadel is an awful place, trust me, I know. But _she_ is not interested in _us_. She wants _me._ If you hurt her again, she'll kill you."

Charlotte shook her head violently, looking away from John. "No," she whispered, doubt filling her face.

"Yes!" Relief flooded him. He was getting through to her. "She will do anything she can to break me, do you understand?" She nodded slowly. "Up to and including torturing you."

Charlotte jerked, terror filling her eyes.

"I will _not_ let anything happen to you, I promise. Okay?"

"No," she whispered, and John saw the realization of what he was implying hit her.

"Yes," he said again, softer. "I will be fine. I need you safe, unharmed. If you find out you can teleport, you get out that _instant_. Do you understand me?"

"No!" She hissed quietly, fear making her tremble under John's hand.

"If she doesn't have you, I can take her. You need to promise me. Promise me!"

Her mouth opened, then closed. She shook her head. "I can't leave you here."

"Yes you can. Promise me."

"I promise," she said so softly that John almost didn't hear it.

"I need one other promise. You won't fight her, no matter what she does to me."

"What if…" her voice trailed off. She couldn't look him in the eyes.

"If she kills me?" John looped his handcuffed arms around her, pulling her into a hug. "Then you need to run as fast as you can, fight as hard as possible," he whispered. "Use anything, every trick you know. Shove everything you have into that scream and drop her in her tracks."

Charlotte nodded against his shoulder, and he struggled to keep the emotion out of his voice. If Laura killed him, Charlotte would be next on her list. "Then you hightail it back to Cara, you hear me?"

"Yes."

He swallowed again, closing his eyes and just holding the young girl. He would get them out if he could. He just didn't know if that was possible anymore.

* * *

"Any news?" Steven asked once he was alone with Jedikiah.

Jedikiah looked up from the clipboard he was holding, looking like he was resisting a temptation to roll his eyes. Or glare at him. Steven inwardly winced. "I will tell you once we have something. Until then, don't you have somewhere you need to be?" Jed opened the door to the command center, handing the clipboard to the agent at the door as he entered.

Steven followed him in, sliding past his uncle as he headed towards an open monitor. There was so many cameras in down town New York that Ultra had pulled all available personnel to be extra eyes. Since probationary agents were less useful than full agents, that meant Steven had been one of the first to be drafted.

Steven slid into his seat, glancing at the far wall where hundreds of pictures lined the walls. Next to each one were note cards filled with information tracking every single person who had been within three blocks of Ultra when the guards were killed. Steven sighed, turning on his computer and picking up the picture of a middle-aged man who he was suppose to be tracking.

Steven brought up the camera angle of the building's front door, and hit fast-forward. He had tracked the man entering the building at just after noon, but no one had noticed him leaving. Steven stared at the screen as cars and people whipped past, pausing the video every time the front doors swung open. The timestamp ran forward, passing from mid-afternoon to evening. The door swung open again, and Steven hit pause, having to back up the tape as the person had already exited. "Ha!"

"What's up?" The IT guy sitting next to him asked, eyes still glued to his own screen.

"Found my guy, finally." Steven let the tape play forward, switching to different camera angles to follow the man into a subway station. "We can take him off the list."

"One down, only about a million to go."

"No kidding." Steven headed over to the picture wall, unpinning the guy's primary photo and note cards, scribbling down the time he had left the building and when he had entered the subway station. He stapled everything together and dropped it into a box labeled 'subway.'

"Any progress with your person?" Steven asked as he slid back into his seat and picked up the next picture. This time it was an older woman, likely in her sixties, well dressed and escorted by an older gentlemen. On the back of the card was where they had first been spotted, and the camera angles that they had so far been located in.

"Not much. This girl doesn't show up until nine pm, and I haven't seen her leaving the store since."

"Back door?"

"Not that customers are suppose to use."

Steven was pulling up the camera angles on the older couple when the IT guy muttered something. "What did you say?"

The guy froze the camera and started backing it up. "I said I must have missed her. The store just closed up but she never left."

Steven felt a chill run up the back of his neck as he leaned towards his neighbor. "What does she look like?"

The man shoved a gritty street camera photo over to him. Even the poor quality of the photo couldn't hide her looks. Russell had given him a mental glimpse of the woman; it was her. Long hair pulled back into a strict ponytail, high cheekbones and severe features. "You sure she never left the store?"

"That's why I'm checking again."

"I think we should call Jedikiah over," Steven said softly.

The man looked up at him, frowning. "You know something I don't?"

Steven locked gazes with him. "Call Jedikiah over."

The man's eyes narrowed as he stared at Steven thoughtfully. "Dr. Price?" He leaned back in his chair, catching Jedikiah's attention and waving him over. "There's something we think you need to see."

Jedikiah glanced at Steven, who handed him the photo. He looked up at his nephew, and Steven nodded. Jed turned to the IT guy, placing the photo back on his desk. "What do you have?"

"She enters this store at 9:05, but I didn't see her leave. They closed up at 10:15pm."

"Any other exits?"

"One that we know of, it lets out onto an alley across from Ultra. But it should have been locked."

Jed nodded, glancing at the picture again. "Alright. Both of you, on this woman. Track her down."

"Yes sir," they chorused at the same time.

"I'm Sam."

"Steven," Steven replied, taking Sam's offered hand with a smile.

* * *

"I got her!"

"What? Where?" Steven leaned over, peering into Sam's screen. All he could see was a dark store front, and a lot of glass.

"There," Sam pointed to the edge of the screen, at a reflection barely visible.

"Seriously?"

"Look closely - that's a reflection of Ultra's steps. That's a woman walking up it, ponytail and all."

"Damn." Steven leaned back in his chair, impressed. "Nice catch."

"Dr. Price!" Sam waved his hand. "We've got her!"

Jedikiah swiftly came over to their station, leaning over to look at Sam's screen. "Great job," he said softly. He straightened, glancing around the room as he held up the woman's picture. "New focus, people! This woman - find everything you can. Track down every angle - I want to know who she is!

"You two," Jed turned back to them as the rest of the room burst into a frenzy of activity. "See if you can track her backwards. Maybe she'll lead us to her."


End file.
